


Changes

by Leonie_Catrina



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Mild Blood, Multi, No Arc Reactor, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Waterboarding, Young Tony Stark, fighting hydra, it really is, mafia, mob boss steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-23 05:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12499444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonie_Catrina/pseuds/Leonie_Catrina
Summary: He was leading the biggest Mob of New York, the Howling Commandos, he was in a stable relationship, he had a great team.Steve had a truly exhausting schedule, but it was fine, they were doing great.Until one attack against a Hydra base brought them an unexpected addition, captive, ally and changed everythingDisclaimer: I own nothing but the plot - unfortunately





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there,
> 
> This is something I just came up with, not sure if I will continue with it
> 
> Tags will be added as and if I continue

"Everyone clear?" I asked through the comms.

"Well..." There was an audible crack and a dull thud "....now I am."

"You just killed this guy on comms? Natasha, really?" Clint mocked.

"Well this way one can tell that I actually do what I'm supposed to. There's no telling with you." I was glad my whole team was okay, but something missed.

"You sure. I'd say the arrows sticking out of thei-"

"Bucky? Buck? You there?" I cut Clint off.

There was no reply for a few seconds and I grew restless.

"James?" Natasha asked again.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I'm here. I just got a situation, here." Bucky finally answered.

"Do you need backup?"

"Well, there's no fight really. I found a prisoner. And if I'd have to guess that's Tony Stark under those bruises."

"Are you positive?" widow inquired.

"Well, no? How about you get your lazy asses down here and confirm?"

"Where are you?"

"Basement third room down the floor."

"Everybody else good?" I asked while running down the steps.

"Yeah, those motherfuckers are too easy to kill." _Don't say it, Steve. You know they'll mock you._

"Clint, we're a mob enforcement team. Not some goddamn 60ies cliché gangsta flick, for fuck's sake." Bucky scolded.

"Language." I slipped. I heard quiet laughter.

"Awww, Stevie. You know we _are_ a mob enforcement team. Hell, you are a mob boss. How can you still be so... polite?" 

"Stop, mocking him James. I know your mama raised you better than that." 

"I will mock my boyfriend as much as I want, widow. He loves me anyways."

"Guys." I sighed. "I'm in the basement now." Bucky stepped into the hallway just as I took the last step.

"Well, baby get that sweet ass of yours over here." He flirted.

"I think I just threw up a little." Clint commented.

"How about you love birds check on our new found captive, before celebrating an easy win?" Bruce joined in. Sure enough that was a little embarrassing.

"Sure. But I can already tell, we will need you're expertise. He's pretty bruised." Bucky told him.

"Well, that's one way to put it." The man - or rather kid - inside was young. As in not yet legal. Bruises littered his half naked body. He was chained to the wall only wearing short sweatpants and bandages across his chest sitting on the cold hard ground.

"I'm coming in."

"Stay where you are we'll bring him up."

"Is he conscious?"

"I don't think so. But for all I know he's playing dead so we leave him here." I said. The kid couldn't suppress the barely noticeable flinch, although I could tell he was trying to keep still.

"Yep, he's conscious." Bucky confirmed.

At that the kid raised his head. Well not raised. He knocked it back into the wall behind him with a dull thump and an annoyed groan. Bucky raised an amused eyebrow. "And coherent. What, exactly was your plan there, kid? Us leaving so you could starve to death?"

"That'd be one option. Or you know. Could have freed myself and not starved." He answered with still closed eyes. There were tear tracks on his face, clearing lines through blood and dirt. I didn't know if he was brave or dumb, taunting a possible threat, not even looking at us.

"Freed yourself how, babycheeks? You hoped those chains will take pity on you and spring open?" He stepped towards the boy, but stopped as he froze, previously relaxed shoulders locking up in fear. Torture and abuse would do that to a person.

"Give us a name?" Brilliant expressive honey-coloured eyes snapped towards me, holding sharp intellect.

"What need one for my headstone?"

"I was thinking polite conversation but sure we can make it your funeral." Bucky was getting annoyed. Something in those golden eyes switched. They were less bright, but his face relaxed with the threat - no promise - of certain death. A quick death.

"You are covered in blood. Had a lot of polite conversations lately, huh?" The kid snarked.

"Well, you're covered in bruises. How did your conversations go?" Came a pissed retort. "James." I pressed. And Bucky composed himself.

"You two are a thing or what? You his lapdog, handsome?" Wow. That was quite the skill the kid had. Making people angry.

"Are you trying to make us kill you?" I asked. He blinked. There was a shimmer of uncertainty in his eyes making him look even younger.

"Well, you're gonna kill me anyway. Might as well have fun while it lasts."

"Nup, not gonna kill you. Even if I want to." My boyfriend grumbled. The kid pouted.

"Aw. No need to feel bad about it, cupcake. I'd prefer it to whatever you have planned. And it would make things easier on all of us. I'm not gonna give you anything. You're wasting your time with me. You can just leave me here and pneumonia will take care of me." The lighthearted tone of his sent a chill down my spine.

"Not on my watch." I replied sharply. Buck took it as a clue to free him of his chains. As he got closer to him, the kids eyes grew wide with fear and excitement? Just to grow even wider in awe as James snapped his shackles clear in half. James held a hand in front of his face. "Come on up, doll." The boy stared suspiciously at his hand until he shyly reached for it. Bucky pulled him up gently, mindful of his injuries, but it did no good either way. As soon as he put weight on his leg he cried out in pain and fell back only to groan again. Buck immediately crouched down next to him.

"Ankle or leg?" 

"Both?" 

"Alright no walking around." He said and reached under his knees and behind his back, standing with him up in his arms.

The kid whimpered a little but we needed to get him out of here.

"Bruce we are coming up, now. He can't walk." I informed our on demand physician.

"Can't walk as in nerve damage, or broken bones?"

"Bones. His pupils are uneven I think he's concussed."

"You telling us your name now?"

"Anthony."

"So you _are_ Tony Stark?" There was a humorless laugh.

"Yeah. Stark. Haven't heard that name in a while. Got a name for me too, goldilocks? Since I already know James over here." He closed his eyes. Too tired or too pained to keep them open.

"Steven."

"James and Steven. That is actually pretty boring. Considering you just killed terrorists." There was a slight slurr to the kids voice. 

"You could always call us Winter Soldier and Captain. That are our titles after all." Bucky answered as we made our way to the quinjet.

"Winter Soldier? As in Avengers as in the Howling Commandos?" Buck sent an surprised gaze towards me but I just shrugged. Even with his eyes closed he could tell our stunned silence.

"Don't be so surprised. I used to hack your databases." Was he serious?

"Yeah."

"Wow. My parents die, I get kidnapped by terrorists, just to be saved by the New York Mafia. This is officially the most fucked up year of my entire life."

"Hey, now don't get ahead of yourself. You're what? 19?" Bucky grinned.

"Don't know actually. What year is it?" His voice got more quiet.

"December 4, 2017."

"Well I'm 20 then. Lost a birthday party somewh-" When I turned to look at him, Tony was fast asleep.

"20, huh? He doesn't look it."

"No he doesn't." He really didn't, I thought as we stepped into the plane


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I actually did continue  
> I don't know if I will get around to update anywhere near reguraly, while studying for college but we'll see :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy
> 
> See ya, Leo

Bucky laid the unconscious Tony on the floor to be examined by Bruce.

"Everybody here?" Natasha leaned arms crossed against the wall of the jet. Clint sat at her feet. Bruce crouched down next to Tony checking for pulse and temperature, while Bucky took the pilots seat.

"Everybody ok?"

"Yeah, Cap. Stop mother-henning." Mumbled Clint.

"I'm tired though. We've been at this for weeks. I need a break. And some time alone, Stevie. It feels like years since I have been the only thing on your mind." 

"Come on Buck. That's not fair. I'm trying okay?" Hearing that hurt. A lot. I just couldn't split myself into two. There were too many things to do, to check on all the teams, watch the police, tracking down Hydra, leading a mob, keeping my team 'the avengers' out of trouble AND being in a relationship. I knew there was not enough time, I spent with Bucky, the last date we had was two months ago. But there was so little time, with him being on missions and I being otherwise occupied. And then I looked to the ground, looked at Tony fucking Stark and just knew he'd be trouble, so much trouble and there would be even less one-on-one time with the man I love. I sat down on one of the seats and let my head fall in my hands so I could hide for a second. But to no avail.

"James. Apologize, he looks like he's going to cry!" Clint shouted to the front. And sure enough, a moment later. Two hands - one flesh and one metal - wrapped around mine and pulled them away. Bucky's face showed a sad concerned frown.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's not your fault. I know that. You're doing so well, baby. It's just been a long day. I'm sorry."

"I miss you too, okay? I feel like I'm doing everything wrong."

"Cap, you're doing great. You are leader of the most successful even though most peaceful mob in New York. You are doing awesome. What you managed is incredible. You know there is no other mob able to survive the way we do. And it's all you. I know a relationship under these conditions is hard and it's not entirely your fault I'm basicly gone 5 days out of 7. We just need a break soon. A vacation. Only you and me and malibu or hell Brooklyn'd be fine." 

"Okay. We can do that." His eyes lit up and he kissed me softly.

"See. All good." 

"So you two _are_ a thing." Tony intercepted before  I could reply. I hadn't registered that he'd woken up. I looked at him. Tony leaned barely conscious against the opposite wall of the jet. Bruce had a hand on his wrist still tracking his pulse. Me or Bucky could do that a lot easier but I got the feeling Tony wouldn't want that. 

"Well, kid, you better get used to it. We still don't know what to do with you." Bucky answered lightly, but Tony's eyes gleamed mistrutsful anyway.

"Okay, first, not a kid, handsome. Second, you've got the obvious options. Kill me or let me go."

"You kind of are a kid to us, you look barely 18. Are you even allowed to drink yet? And we can't just let you go. A billionaire teen rescued after months of capture? These kind of questions don't do well with a bunch of criminals. Where were you held. How did you get out. Who killed all your guards? We are already the likeliest option for cleaning a Hydra base to begin with but the police has no evidence, you could provide that. And killing you seems wrong. You are a child to us after all and you just got out of Hydra capture, that is horrible enough in and on its own." Told him Clint. It was what we all thought. Letting him go was dangerous. Killing him was a no. Not without more than good reason. But keeping him prisoner seemed entirely fucked up, since we just killed his kidnappers. But it was for now the only reasonable possibility.

"I could work for you." Tony said in a small voice.

"Didn't you tell us we wouldn't get anything out of you just a few minutes ago?" Bucky asked.

"Well, I won't make you weapons. But I could make you armor. A security system for your servers."

"We have a security system." I said. I had to suppress a smile at the dry, almost offended look Tony sent me.

"A three year old could hack your little breakfast club, goldi. Honestly it's insulting to the keys you used to program this." I could have sworn the cough Natasha let out sounded a lot like 'I told you so'. Tony grinned at her, so obviously he must have heard it too.

"It was alright until now." Clint pouted.

"Well you never noticed me breaking into your security cameras and bank accounts, so maybe you missed others too." Tony reasoned and he was right. 

"You've been in our bank accounts?" Bucky grumbled threateningly.

"Are you for real? Billionaire. I don't need your money. I was bored so I looked for a challenge. Let me tell you I didn't find it with your organization." Did he do this on purpose? Riling everyone around him up? Or was that a subconscious move of his?

"We can get to that later. Scale of 1 to 10 how bad are you feeling?" I questioned.

"Somewhere around 4, but I've got a pretty high pain tolerance and I'm used to it, so my opinion is essentially not useful to classifying injuries. I'd ask your lovely doctor."

"Hold on, what do you mean, you're used to it? I mean yeah you've been tortured, but that's not what your talking about right?" Bruce asked horrified.

"Well, it's something I do when I work in the lab. I tend to ignore any injuries until my brain just cuts of the pain response, so I can work a little longer."

"Huh, you probably know already you shouldn't work when you're hurt." Bruce scolded a little perplex.

"Might've heard a few times." He pushed a loose strand out of his face.

"Or a few dozen."

"Yeah, so we are going to take you with us. Patch you up. And then we decide what to do. You working for us _could_ be a possibility. But don't get your hopes up, we don't really trust you, no offense. We're not supposed to trust strangers." Announced Bucky.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, handsome. I don't trust you guys either." 

"I can't treat any of the injuries while up here. How far until new York?" Bruce asked.

"Couple minutes. We weren't that far. But I paced the autopilot low so the disguise panels can keep up, should I go faster?" It was adorable how Bucky tried to mask his concern for Tony. I couldn't blame him. He looked fairly horrible. And he already passed out from the pain.

"Don't worry, handsome. I'll be fine."

"He's good for now." Bruce added, it's not like Buck would have listened to Tony anyways.

"So." An adorable pout settled on Tony's face, "if you are keeping me for now, are you gonna intrudce yourself? I mean, I get if you don't wanna, being wanted criminals and all that. But I'll have to come up with some more nicknames, not that I won't anyway. But you could just tell me your names, then I will remember them and use them. Probably. Maybe. OK, at least somet-"

"Bruce." Bruce held his hand outstreched for Tony to take it. "Banner. PhDs in Physics and Biology. Not THAT much of a criminal, more of an doctor with anger management issues than a fighter." Tony's eyes lit up.

"Bruce. Nice to meet you." I could see he was thrown by the pure joy in Tony's eyes. 

"Clint Barton. Archer." Tony stared at him weirdly.

"For real?"

"Yes. And I'm damn good." Clint told him with a dangerous glimmer.

"Alright, Katniss. Consider me warned."

"Romanov. Natasha. Call me something other than that and I'll find a way to make living very painful." There was something dark in Tony's gaze. It looked a lot like doubt, not in Nat but in the threat being possible after what he's been through. In a blink the expression was gone. A charming smile firmly in place. That was some A+ acting skills right there.

"Of course, my Lady." He bowed while sitting on the ground and somehow managed to still look graceful. He smiled even wider at the glare he got. It was an truly amazing smile. It looked sincere. Split lip, black eye, roughed up hair and beautiful. I wondered how that smile would feel against my lips. _Whoa, where did that thought come from? Wrong, Steve. So wrong._ I was happy with James. And Tony was 20 years old. Seven years younger than me. Not okay.

"And you guys are the Avengers? Head enforcement of the Howling Commandos."

"That's right." Bucky declared.

"Who's boss?"

"Steve." My team echoed as one.

"Yeah, sure he's Captain. But who is big boss? Like top notch mafia leader?"

"Steve." They echoed again. Tony's disbelieving stare was lightly insulting.

"What? You don't think I'm capable of that?" I asked carefully neutral.

"I....well....ah..I-I don't..... No. I'm sorry but you don't seem like the ruthless leader of a criminal violent organization. No offense but when I look at you? I think of a boy shushing his friends in Sunday school, because he's actually listening to that bullshit."

"That's because he was." Bucky announced with a shit-eating grin. I shot him a death glare in return.

"Well, I guess still waters really do run deep, but I bet those innocent lips of yours can't even curse." Tony said with a mocking tone to his voice.

"I'll have you know I have a boyfriend of 3 years. How innocent do you think my lips could possibly be?" I deadpanned. Bucky's grin turned positively dirty, while the others let out groans of disgust and Tony's laughter sounded through the jet.

"Alright, cap you're boss, got that." Tony said finally still smiling wide even though he held his rips. The laughing must have hurt. I sent a little smile his way. I didn't want Tony to have a wrong view of us. Tony could probably find out all and anything he wants and maybe we'd be actually able to convince him over. Stark tech would be a huge advantage.

"You know, I don't really pride myself in violence and crime. That's not how we do it. Killing is often the means to an end, I don't enjoy death. None of us do." 

"Speak for yourself, cap." Clint commented. I just ignored him.

"We take all kinds of jobs. Mostly protection and extraction. Like a private security firm. Bodyguarding, witness protection, getting people out a basement or the country. We just do it more efficiently."

"Yeah, there was this one time. It was the armed robbery. I don't know what bank it was anymore, but they took hostages and barricaded themselves in the building. Police wouldn't go in, not wanting to risk lives. Some high society girl was in there. Her father called. We went in. Knocked the robbers out. Got the hostages free. Left the rest to the state. A lot of our jobs are like that." Bucky followed my lead, explaining what we did.

"So, you guys are what? Gentlemen enforcers?"

"No. Everyone of us has killed. All of us have some kind of past. We are a bunch of assassins after all. Its just that we decided being able to kill doesn't have to come with the lack of a conscience. We don't do drug dealing or weapons. We are picky with our jobs. And we feel a responsibility for our city. Our money comes from those jobs we told you, or from gangs or Hydra bases we took down or from small businesses all across New York. Hell, we are producing designer clothes with prisoners, making money and giving people a second chance. We're not saints, we still murder but we try to do it for the right reasons." It didn't make it right, but I thought it made it a little better than horrible. It made what we were doing bearable.

"I.....am shockingly okay with that. It's almost noble, I think. But hey my relations are definitely messed up lately."


	3. Chapter 3

There was an unsure silence.

"Actually, exactly how messed up are your relations?" Clint asked.

"I'm the son of the worlds most prominent weapons producer, I went to MIT at 15, I've been kidnapped and held captive more times that I can count. My relations were always messed up." College at 15? _Yeah, right. Genius child._ I already forgot, that this was truly Anthony Stark, prodigy, genius, and legitimate heir to a billion dollar company. But still college at 15. The highway to certain corruption. It definitely explained why even I got a whiff of his reputation, as a playboy and borderline criminal. I didn't even read the news papers. I got my team for intel. 

" 'S it true, that you're 'n addict?" Bucky asked. Tony glanced at him, only mildly surprised and didn't that tell us something about society these days.

"Well, sweetheart, I could certainly get addicted to you." Tony answered lasciviously while simultaneously looking away, boredom written on his face. Bucky frowned.

"That sounds familiar." Tony's eyes were hard when he looked at my boyfriend again. Dark and dangerous in a way I hadn't seen him before.

"You wanna ask press questions, you gonna get press answers." Before anyone could come up with some kind of retort a little jolt went through the jet while it landed very smoothly an the rooftop of our main building in Brooklyn. It was a little awkward when Natasha opened the door and the team slowly made their way out. Bucky and I didn't know, who should carry Tony inside after what happened not a minute ago, but Tony decided he wouldn't have any of us carrying him. He leaned on one knee, while crying out from pain earlier, he now only gritted his teeth, determinated, and stood up. His face was carefully blank. Not giving away his agony. And then he walked right out of the jet, without so much as a limp. He walked consciously slow and normal. Buck and I just watched open mouthed before hastily following.

I watched the young man closely scared for him to fall and injure himself further. I knew Bucky was just as concerned. He was tense a few steps ahead of Tony, leading the way to the infirmary. Bruce was already waiting for us. Tony took one look to his surroundings and Bruce's stubborn face and resigned to his fate, taking a seat on the treatment couch. It wasn't a chair because James still couldn't really be around those. He got nervous enough as it was in the infirmary. It was strange to see the same nervousness in Tony, even though he tried really hard and was fairly good in not letting it show. But Tony was actually impressively composed for what he's been through. So I guessed he could be a little nervous with us. 

Bruce looked at us while Tony continued fidgeting. Silence settled into the room as Bucky and I leaned against the wall. And Bruce kept watching intently until he sighed.

"Could you _please_ finally leave? I don't know if Tony will be comfortable with you watching him undress." _Oh._ Heat rose into my cheeks. Of course Tony wouldn't want us here for this, I would like privacy too. We could interview him about Hydra later.

"Sorry. We'll leave. Get ahold of me when your finished, alright?"

"Sure." Bruce answered almost drowned out by Bucky asking "We are?"

I just took his hand and pulled him away.

"I will check on you later, too!" Bruce shouted after us. We just walked on. There were things to do. We had to talk about what we're gonna do.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked in a soft and serious voice.

"I'm fine, baby." I said with a fond smile.

"Are you? Nobody ever asks you that. Are you okay with how much you have to carry?"

"Yeah, Buck. It's hard sometimes, but it's alright."

"You know. You could give Natasha more responsibility. She loves being in command. Maybe you could split the monitoring of the STRIKE teams. The Guardians and the Wolves work well, they mostly pick their mission by themselves. Let Natasha keep watch over them."

"I'll think about it. And the Guardians work well, but not with others. There is trouble everywhere they go." Bucky smiled.

"It's a good thing then we let Phil lead 'Advocate', an espionage team with rocket would have been a disaster."

"Peter isn't much better." I pointed out and he laughed.

"No he isn't. How about we take a shower before watching the video tapes?" There was a suggestive tone to the sentence and I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say yes so badly. But....

"Natasha is most likely already waiting for us. And we gotta discuss what to do with our genius teen." I sighed and Bucky nodded understandingly.

"I don't think we should call him that."

"What? Teen? But he is." And that made thinking about his ass incredibly inappropriate, Steve.

"But he isn't. Not really. He's been through  too much, he is for sure not a child anymore. And he actually acts very mature, I don't think that's all just show. He is 20 for gods sake. He is young but not that young. We went to the army when we were his age and we considered us mature enough. Don't make him small,  you're only 7 years the wiser after all and definitely not a year smarter than him." It was true. Treating Tony like a precious child wouldn't do any good. He'd feel belittled and not taken serious. He deserved being treated as equal. 

"You're right. We'll talk to him later. Let's not make Natasha wait on us any longer." I said stepping through the door to one of the conference rooms.

"Maybe the surveillance cameras captured something useful." 

"Not so sure about that." Nat didn't even look at us, just staring at the screens in front of her, seemingly bored to death.

"Hydra goon. Hydra goon. Goon. Goon. Goon. Oh weapons. Goon. Goon. Goon."

"So I take it, no new faces, no leads."

"No. It's not entirely surprising. It was a rather small base, not strategically important. If it wouldn't have been for... Stark!" She straightened her back and pushed a few keys and twisted the screen so we could see.

"Timestamp says it was a week ago." The tape showed Tony, at his sides two guards dragging him along. He looked even worse then he did now. Even more bruised. Even skinnier. He couldn't move his feet fast enough so his guards all but carried him. If I hadn't known, Tony was alive and considerably well, I'd had believed it was a body the men pulled along. Eyes closed, face expressionless, blood painting the front of his tank top. 

It was a harsh sight. I knew there was more. There had to be more. More of those videos. More torture. More blood. More pain. I involuntarily compared it to an interview of him I once saw. He was light and smiling. Charming the journalists and the public. There was a small dimple when he smirked. Barely there laugh lines around his eyes, promising to show a life of happiness when he got older. He was attractive and sure and strong. Lively. On the video he looked lifeless.

And I knew I wanted to help him. Help Tony get back to the man he once was, or at least to become the man he wanted to be. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is brief  
> sorry, but I just felt like stopping where I did  
> Let me know if you enjoyed the drama ;)

I sighed, trying to focus on the mission.

"Bodycount?" I asked quietly. It was an uncomfortable querie. Knowing that they were dead because we killed them.

"28." Natasha answered equally dark.

"All security cameras taken down?"

"Yeah."

"Police got an idea already?" Bucky asked.

"Ben hasn't called yet, so I'd say no. And I think it stays that way for at least some time. It's deep in the forest and Hydra certainly won't call the cops." Nat was right. It was unlikely that we'd have to face the police for this one.

"So anyone had any problems?"

"No. Very clean. My widow bites are ruined though and Clint whined and begged at least 5 minutes for a new bow and quiver." I finally started to relax and sat down. Buck followed suit, an exasperated smirk on his lips.

"He's got the best equipment we could get. What does he want us to do? Just magic it into existence?" 

"He says it every time we go out. I think he got a boost this time, because of our new found problem." _Tony._

"Stark." Bucky nodded. _Right. Stark, not Tony. Don't get too personal._

"Well then. Any ideas?" I asked. They looked at me strangely.

"You're asking us?"

"No, I was talking to my imaginary second and third in command. You know? The ones right behind you. Of course I'm asking you, why shouldn't I?"

"Well, you always had a plan first and then asked us what we thought. Asking for ideas is a strange change of concept." Natasha pointed out.

"You truly don't know what to do?" Buck asked seriously.

"No. I don't know what to do. Killing him is off the table. Letting him go is much too risky. Holding him captive is cruel and him working for us could be extremely dangerous. We can't trust him yet and while being held captive he won't be able to earn our trust. We can't hold him forever and we can't let him go. I'm out of options."

"Steve. Killing him can't be off the table, you know that. If he's a danger to us then killing him is the _only_  option, you will have to face that eventually." Natasha tried to say it as softly as possible and I knew she was right, still I didn't want to think about it yet. It felt so incredibly wrong. Everything inside me screamed to protect him.

"I don't think he is, Tasha." Bucky said.

"Why? Because he's young? Spoiled? Cute?" Her eyes were narrowed, her stance defensive. Why was she so adamant about him being dangerous.

"Why are you so aggressive about this?" I asked. She huffed out a breath

"I'm not.... I don't like having him here. I don't know I just have a bad feeling about this. Maybe this will work out or maybe it will blow. I just don't like him." I didn't agree but at least she was honest. I should probably be too.

"Well actually I do. I can't tell you why but I want this to work out. I want him to stay and become a part of this." Buck looked at me somewhat strangely. There was a brief moment of silence before he took a deep breath.

"Okay." He said, sounding solemn. Somehow _blank._

"Okay?" I asked not quite sure what he meant.

"Okay. We coddle him up. We get to know him. We let him work for us. We let him earn our trust. All of us had a somewhat new chance when we started this. A new role in a new start. I say he gets a do-over too." He looked at me, I looked to Natasha, she looked at Bucky. Suddenly she threw her hands up, shaking her head slightly.

"Alright. There's a reason I'm third. You're doing this longer than me. You want to try it, so we try and keep a close eye on him - or two." 

"Thank you." I told her. She put a hand on my shoulder as she started to walk out.

"You are still Captain, Steve. It means I will listen to you and it means it's your responsibility." _True_. So true.

We just sat in silence after she left.

Both lost in our own heads. Or maybe he was not, but I certainly felt like I was drowning in mine. The guilt for putting my team - my family - in danger, the unreasonable worry for the billionaire in my infirmary, the illogical trust I put in a stranger, the knowing I was going against Nat's opinion, the knowing I was going against my boyfriend's. He didn't have to say it. I could feel his disapproval, but he wouldn't question me. Not when he could see it was a heart's decision not my mind's.

"I'm sorry." I said quietly. I knew I hurt him. He closed his eyes.

"I know. It doesn't really make it any better though." I was sorry, I knew I was doing it and regretted hurting him, but I still did it.

"It makes it worse, I know." He opened his eyes and looked at me. His face showed nothing but carefully contained grief.

"You know I like him, too. And I trust him, too. I just got the feeling this will ruin us. Not 'avengers' us, 'us' us. He will change things and I don't know if our relationship will survive this." Tears came to my eyes. So he noticed. The way I looked to long at his lips earlier. Or maybe he interpreted my overprotectiveness that way. Or maybe he just knew me better then I did myself. I could promise I would never cheat on him and would always love him, but I couldn't control what I felt and he knew that too. He knew it was not really my fault. I thought not being able to blame me, hurt even worse.

"Buck." I tried, my voice was shaking.

"Don't." He shook his head and rose. "Check on him. I will, too." He added softly and left. I just sat there for a while. Tears running down my cheeks silently, knowing there were tears on his, too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is a new chapter, extra long - compensating for the last one ;)
> 
> Hope you like!
> 
> See ya, Leo

A good hour later I stood in the doorframe to the infirmary. And Bruce _still_  wasn't finished with wrapping Tony in gauze. Considering the alarming amount of skin covered in bandages it was probably entirely legitimate. The bandages went from his right shoulder all the way to his left wrist. The old bandages on his chest had been changed and spread now from his neck to shortly above his belly button. There was a cast on his right hand and a splint on his left ankle. Since Tony was only in boxers I could see that his left leg was wrapped too. The rest that wasn't covered up was black and blue with bruises. There was a strange scar on his belly like someone had systematically cut him open. He made a horrible sight but still he smiled wide and brighteyed as he talked to Bruce, called him Brucie, punched him lightly in the shoulder when he whipped a sarcastic response at him. His strong will, his love to life shined through while he was talking. He was beautiful, truly beautiful. The way a long dark brown curl kept falling into his face while he gestured widely. I didn't know what they were talking about. There were far too many words that went right over my head. And I didn't really need to know, surely it was great if it made them both beam with joy like they were trying to light up the universe. They hadn't noticed me yet and when Bruce looked up he was still laughing. His eyes glistened mischievously. I smiled. I didn't get to see my friend that carefree a lot. It was awesome to see Tony bringing this side of him to life.

"Steve, come on in. You're next." Tony turned with that gorgeous smile dimming a little, but not much. I counted that as a win.

"Well, honey. Go strip. Let the doctor see." He said enthusiasticly. I raised an eyebrow.

"Wow. Aren't you chipper? Bruce what's going on?" I asked.

"Honestly? He's higher than Burj Khalifas on painkillers and still _brilliant_. It's amazing!" High? Well that explained Tony's behaviour.

"And what drugs are you on?" I laughed.

"Science. Science, Steve. It's incredible, I honestly forgot what it felt like discussing with someone who understands what I'm saying." He was so excited, I just blinked rapidly.

"Uhm, sorry... I guess." Tony doubled over in laughter. 

"Wow. Brucie-bear now _that_  was a nice one, a mean one at that sure, but I'm not judging!" Bruce's eyes went wide.

"Oh my... No! I. That was not how that was supposed to come out! I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Bruce. I can take a little honesty, considering it's coming from a fairly intelligent man." I couldn't be angry and I couldn't stop the big grin on my lips. Them being happy, even when Tony was high as a house, was infectious. When Tony finally stopped laughing, he looked at me seriously.

"Why are you still dressed?" Excuse me?

"Well, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because Bruce wants to check you out, honey." I looked at Bruce half amused, half scared that Tony was hinting at something for me. I got already one love disaster coming, I definitely didn't need a second.

"No." Bruce shook his head, outright laughing. "The painkillers are messing with his vocabulary." He frowned then.

"Or maybe not. It sounds like something he'd say sober, too. If I learned one thing the last one and a half hours, I learned that Tony fucking Stark is a little shit. Worse than Bucky."

"Well, we'll see. But I don't need to get naked, right?"

"Yes!" Tony shouted, contrary to Bruce who said "No."

"You look fine. Got any scratches while fighting?"

"There was a bruise on my left arm, already gone."

"Alright, James good, too?" My grin faded to a soft smile. I couldn't tell for sure. Knowing that I _didn't_ know hurt.

"Yeah, I'm good. No scratches at all. Maybe our cap is getting old." He was leaning against the wall behind me. I had entirely missed him taking that place.

"You're a whole year, older than me, centenarian." I shot back.

"Well a childhood with you certainly felt like a century's worth of pulling you out of fights." He responded smiling.

"I think it's more like I pulled you in. Any fight I went to, you followed me." 

"You were scrawny, what was i supposed to do? Who could have guessed you'd even it out following me to war." He said still smiling softly.

"It certainly didn't feel like following you considering I was captain." 

"Well, looks like I'll always follow you, right?" He sounded fond, not bitter and for that I was glad. I don't think I could bear losing him again. Knowing him by my side made life easier, happier, he made my life worth living. I could remember very clearly, the first days after we got him back. I never wanted him out of my sight ever again. And I could remember even clearer the day we got _him back*_. From that dark place in his mind, from the conditioning, from Hydra's grip. The first day, I could rattle down the words and he was still in control. I cried as he threw his arms around me. It took months to erase the years of brainwashing, but we did it. It also was the day we kissed for the first time. I never wanted to let go of him again. I was glad Hydra didn't get to Tony in that way. Or maybe they did.

"Report?" 

"Mild concussion, broken worst, three broken and two cracked ribs, broken cheekbone, dislocated shoulder, bruised knee, sprained ankle, minor cuts all over him. Luckily nothing needs surgery and nothing life threatening." I let out a harsh breath and Bucky whistled a low tone. I didn't know if I should be furious, because gosh that was a lot of pain or relieved that he would be okay, then again maybe I should feel guilty for caring so much about him while my _boyfriend_  stood right beside me. 

"Give it a month and he's as good as new." I suddenly wondered if he got a moth here, to see if it would come true.

"Well, then, short stack. Are you good to tell us what you've been up to lately?" Bucky asked him.

"Anything for you, handsome." Tony told us in a - was it flirting? - tone of voice. I was curious if he was actually interested in us or just flirted for the hell of it. 

"I'll leave you to it. The drugs shouldn't mess with his memory to much, mostly he could lose focus or inhibitions - assuming he has inhibitions at all that is. Anyway I don't really need to hear that." Bruce excused himself and left the three of us alone, closing the door behind him.

"So what happened to get you captured?" I wanted to know.

"From the start?" 

"Yes, everything." Tony sat down on the treatment couch.

"The start. Well, my parents died... What is it? Last year right? December 2016 was last year, right? Yeah - okay right. So they died in a car accident. I was taken five days after. I missed their funeral, but that one is on me I guess - shouldn't have gone to a weapons demonstration before they were even six feet under, moral codes and all. Hadn't had a good relationship with them anyway, dad worse than mama, but you know. They're dead, they don't care anymore! So fuck morals. And the press. Especially the press. Fucking vultures. What was I talking about?" Bruce _did_ say he could have problems focusing.

"Taken five days after Howard and Maria's deaths." Bucky summarized drily.

"Right! So, went to Afghanistan, showed off a new missile, the Jericho, they attacked the convoy, killed the soldiers in my truck, knocked me out. Woke up, got to meet a fellow captive - he's dead, because of me, I'll get to that - they wanted me to build them weapons, I didn't want to build them weapons, torture, refusing again, torture, making a plan, bit mor torture, escaping, Yinsen died, walking through the afgahni desert, just to be captured again and now those guys are much worse." So that's how Hydra got to him. 

"They didn't even _ask_  me to build them weapons, they just tortured me for fun. Just talked all day. Torture. Talking. More torture. And talking again. God those idiots wouldn't shut up. First they wouldn't even speak English, just rambling all day in Russian. But you know I don't speak fucking Russian. German. Spanish. Italian - well of course. But I don't fucking know Russian. Why would I? Not a chance to impress a girl with russian endearments. Declarations of eternal love just sound better in French."

"Tony, focus. What did they tell you?" Bucky asked tensely. I couldn't blame him. Hydra 'talking' was dangerous especially in combination with pain.

"What? Yeah, sure, sorry. So, the most I didn't get. Picked up some terms but when they finally switched to German - actually why the hell not English? - they called me slave I think? Could be wrong with how hazy those memories are, but yeah I'm pretty sure. It was slave. Whore. And pet. And bitch. Now that I think about it pretty degrading, I should be insulted. Wanted to thrash talk me into submission I guess? Kept going about how a slave - aka myself - had to listen to his masters, to not think, just to please, to submit and serve. I think at that point I told them to just stick it where the sun don't shine. Honestly, they can't truly believe they can trash my ego with name-calling. I had worse - and by the way much more creative - newspaper headlines." I shared a glance with Bucky. I didn't know for sure, but that sounded a lot different from Bucky's brainwashing, but no less concerning.

"So that's all they did? Talking and torture?"

"Well we skipped movie nights and candle-light dinners, sweetheart, I don't do these. Not my shtick, you know? Romantic? Doesn't fit the playboy-image and all that. Ruins any reputation." 

"What kind of torture?" Bucky just ignored his comment. Something intellible flickered in Tony's eyes. But as soon as it was there it was gone. He smiled coldly.

"Punching for one. Whipping a close second. Knives. Electrocution. Waterboarding, ever done it? A nasty kink. Don't need that one again. That was mostly Afghanistan though." It certainly sounded bad.

"When did you escape in Afghanistan?" I asked.

"Three, four months in? Couldn't really check my phone for the date."

"How did you escape?"

"Did what they wanted. Built a weapon." My eyebrows rose. That was very vague.

"And used it against them. Blasted them all to hell. Certainly didn't work out in the long run, but damn that was a special kind of satisfaction. Honestly, they should have seen it coming. If they hadn't been terrorists, they would have deserved it for being epicly stupid." He was kinda right.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that took me long  
> I'm still not entirely sure of continuing, I got a plot in my head all planned out but I'm a little scared of writing it
> 
> Anyway: new chapter
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"You're handling that astoundingly well." I didn't really believe him. There was no way he actually was that casual about what happened. This looked too much like a façade. 

"Oh, I'll cry my eyes out later, right now I'm kinda floating. Damn, Brucie, that stuff is good. But it's cold in here. Aren't you cold?" It was a little chilly, but I thought it was mainly the shock finally catching up with him or maybe him being severely underweight. I looked around and noticed that there was not one blanket in this room. Bucky seemed to come to the same conclusion. Sighing he stripped his worn leather jacket and put it in Tony's lap. Bucky's left arm shined in the cold medical light and Tony's eyes went wide. He jumped to  his feet - winced - and stared. Jacket forgotten beside him.

"Your arm is prosthetic." His voice showed no emotion. Thrilled or scared - I couldn't tell.

"Oh my god! You think? Finally, that explains the metal!" _Buck._ I didn't really have it in me to scold him for that joke. Even if I mentally face-palmed at that line, Bucky's been through one too many bad responses to his addition.

I needn't have worried. Something I was learning very fast was that Tony Stark was always quick to reply.

"Well, I can see how you got confused, you're not a first-class engineer. Your hand looked normal earlier." Normal?

"I mean, not that this isn't normal, but it looked fleshy - just pink, not silver."

"I wore gloves. _Genius_." Tony wouldn't take his eyes of the arm.

"Course, pretty easy to recognize. It's ....." _What? It was what?_  I knew Bucky thought of words like horrible, disgusting, freak, monster and so god help me if Tony sai-

"Beautiful." Tony finally breathed out looking Bucky straight in the eyes. _What?!_ Sure the arm didn't change Bucky even one bit, it didn't make him less sexy or a freak. But I couldn't say I was a big fan of the arm. It would always remind me of all that we've lost.

"Come again?" James stuttered.

"It's beautiful. Breathtaking." Tony's eyes glimmed with what I could now see was fascination, absolute adoration. He slowly reached out, looking at Bucky.

"Can....may I?" Somehow I got the feeling Tony asking for permission was not a common thing. Bucky blinked, a slight frown on his face, before he strechted his arm out.

"Sure." The engineer took the metal into his hands gently - awestruck even. He ran light fingertips over the plates. Feeling the material, the contours and strength beneath it.

"Has it got a neural connection? Of course it has, you operate it like your right. What is it made of? It doesn't feel like steel, is it titanium?" Even if Bucky planned on answering and I thought he was still hung up on the fact that Tony looked at his arm like a newfound treasure, he'd have had no chance to, as Tony turned his arm a little and panted an appalled "What the hell?!" He saw the missing plate, the one we broke out to destroy the tracker.

"What have you _done_  to it?" Tony looked at us horrified. Bucky pulled his arm out of the young mans hands.

"It's none of your business." Tony let go without resistance.

"But it's damaged! No matter what you've done you messed up the motion control. That has to be fucking painful!" Painful?

"What do you mean, messed up motion control?" I asked concerned.

"I-I don't... I can't really tell without any scans, but I noticed he can't spread his fingers, then I saw your butchering and it's pretty clear what happened. Whatever you've done damaged part of the neural transmission and besides ruining any and all calibration and restrict motion range that is _painful_! It's connected to his _brain_. That has to feel like a broken bone. Constantly." Three years. It's been three years since we deactivated the tracker. He was hurting all this time? I felt a little sick.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I pressed out.

"Tell you what? That I was in pain, so you would always worry, so that I would get addicted to painkillers, so I wouldn't be able to fight anymore? There is nothing to be done. Nobody is able to fix it. Nobody dares touching it." Bucky said resigned. Tony's head snapped up.

"I could. I could fix it. Hell I could design you an entirely new prothese. I could definitely fix it. The papers may have lied a lot about me, but I really am that talented with a wrench. I'm also exactly that good in bed, too. Just saying." Ten minutes ago, I would have said no. Absolutely not. We couldn't trust him to not incapacitate Bucky if he got the chance. Even if I somehow trusted the man, we couldn't trust him with that. But I also didn't want Bucky in pain - or in anymore pain than he already was and not having the whole moving capacity _could_  turn out to be dangerous. Anyway it was Bucky's decision if he wanted a seemingly inexperienced adolescent, a stranger near to his most vulnerable. A stranger simply touching his arm could trigger a panic. I didn't know if he could stand it, even if he wanted.

"No. I don't trust you, Stark. If I would have it my way, you won't come near a wrench while you're here." He blocked. I got why. 

"Awww, darlin'! Don't be like that, sweetheart, sweetcheeks, sweetcherrypie. You're breaking my heart." Bucky looked entirely unimpressed.

"No."

"Well, the educationists and the light bulb. Can I at least have some paper and a pen?" Lightbulb, what?

"Educationists?" Bucky mirrored my thoughts. Tony smirked at us and I got the feeling what would follow would be incredibly cheesy.

"How many educationists does it take to change a light bulb?" Was he serious? He looked at us excitedly, practically bouncing in place. I crossed my arms, not willing to make this even worse with guessing.

"Just tell us already." Bucky groaned.

"Only one, but the light bulb gotta want it too." I almost facepalmed but the bright grin that appeared on Tony's face when Bucky couldn't completely stifle a surprised laugh was worth it. Then he got more serious.

"You don't want my help, okay, I won't push, but I wouldn't mind, just so you know."

"Is that what you told the light bulb?" Bucky grinned, it was the closest to thank you Buck got with anyone outside the team, Tony grinned too.

"Come on we'll take you to your room." I said. Even though smiling, Tony looked tired. Making him seem young and years older at the same time. Maybe it was the way i could count out his ribs even through all the bandages. He had a larger than life attitude, but examined closely his body looked frail.

"Need any help with the walking, doll?"

"What if I do? You gonna carry me again, handsome?" He flirted.

"Nah, there is a wheelchair in storage next door." Tony grimaced as if the single thought of it undermined his charisma.

"Good, follow me." I said walking out the door.

"The elevator is fingerprint secured. There are stairs, you try to use them fire alarm will make it pretty well known, to all crew members currently inside. Trust me, fire alarm? They get suspicious not nervous - so just don't. Most of the doors are keycard locked too. That's the only reason we're not locking you in your room. Still you'll be on a secluded floor nobody but the avengers and a few friends have access to." We stepped into said elevator, I put my hand against the scanner and pushed the button for the penthouse.

"Sweet." Tony commented once the doors slid open. I led him straight to the guest room, it was mostly unused but still it came in handy sometimes. 

"Great view. Sure is the nicest cell I've ever been in." That stung a little but he was right, it was a glorified prison.

"It is a guest room, but you're no guest. We _have_  holding cells if this doesn't suit your standards, just let me know, I'll be happy to comply." Bucky left the room with that. I sighed.

"There are some clothes in the closet, don't know if anything will fit. I'll see to get you something to wear as soon as possible. Take a shower, or a bath, or don't, really I don't care just don't drown. There are no razors or scissors, don't waste your time looking, you can get an haircut later. Just wash up and go to bed. You look tired, it's late. I'll wake you tomorrow for breakfast."

"Okay." He still stood at the widow, taking in the view of the city. I wondered when he had last seen New York with his own eyes.

"Good night, Tony."

"Good night, Steve." He whispered. I closed the door softly.

Bucky was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

He gave me a serious look.

"You know that this could go up in flames even without him betraying us? He's fucked six ways to sunday. Everyone can see that. And still he's a press entertainer. It could be so much worse and we just don't know yet." I was scared of that too.

"I know." I sighed.

"What if there's no fixing him?" He pressed.

"We'll help him."

"But what if we can't?" 

"I don't know. We'll just have to try."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony POV - because I could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this???  
> Two chapters in one day?  
> Well I just felt like it  
> And its only half a chapter anyway - only a teeny tiny interlude  
> Let me know if you want more of Tony telling the story ;)
> 
> Hope you like it

Tony POV

 

Bruce was a kind, goldhearted, entirely good man. There was no way he anticipated my high tolerance for pain medication. There was no way what he gave me was gonna make walking, moving, breathing easy. My body felt like hell and still the drugs taking the edge of, leaving only a dull throbbing behind, was the most painfree I've been for a long time. I sat on the bed in my _room_ , it was dark outside but New York was never really dark. Not with all the lights, the traffic, the people, New York was vibrant, New York was always alive. I wasn't. I felt dead. Talking to Steve and James was the hardest thing I ever did. The memories were not hazy at all, they sat crystal clear inside my head. Taunting me. Hurting me. Breaking me. But I could not and would not ever show that. It made me weak. I couldn't be weak if I was surrounded with assassins and mob bosses. And wasn't that fucked up? Of all things happening after almost a year of capture - the New York Mafia was not something I considered.

They seemed nice, caring. But surely they were ruthless. You don't get to lead a mob in NY without being ruthless. So I better stayed on their good side. _Isn't it what you always do? Please?_  I bit my lip and tried to push those thoughts away. It was a voice I had memorized over time. And I did not want it here. There was a lot I didn't want. I didn't want to hurt. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to feel this dead inside. I wanted to be free. Finally free. I wanted to ask about Rhodey. About Pepper. About Happy. I wanted to be told it was gonna be okay. But I was a prisoner, I couldn't ask them or they would hold them over my head and nobody told me that, nobody ever would probably, nobody cared enough to lie to me.

It's not like they really care, I thought. I just felt sorry for myself. I was pathetic. Honestly this was embarrassing. I got up, groaned in agony, now that I didn't need to keep my reactions in check it seemed to hurt even more. The thought of a bath or shower was terrifying but I could wash up in the sink. I could handle that. Shouldn't take off all of the bandages anyway. The water running down my hands had me stiffening, the water in my face had me panting fighting for control. Trying to keep my cool. Only washing my face took me ten minutes, always just a few drops away from a panic. I dried my face stared into the mirror. I looked worn out, every bit that pathetic child I was. I prided myself in maturity. Before. Now I knew what maturity really felt like. It was not as pleasant as imagined.

 ** _Was hast du erwartet, hm? Was dachtest du, was wir mit dir machen? Du verdienst alles davon._**   _You deserve all of it._ No, I didn't. I did not. I would not let them get into my head. Not again. I would not fall back to that - whatever it was - back into that place. Obedience was NOT my style. Not my style at all. Yet it was everything I had for the better part of  the last year. I watched the bright skyline surrounding me. Seeing the sparkling obnoxious Christmas decorations in the streets was comforting. I could almost pretend it was this time last year and nothing ever happened. Mum and Dad were still alive then, I was still whole and starting to shadow Dad and Obie in Stark Industries, to get the ropes of it. To ease me into it. I'd spent Christmas with mum, dad away at some business trip. I could almost see her smile when she would embrace me, telling me she is sorry dad can't be here, even though it's always like that. I can almost here her saying 'Merry Christmas, Antonio'. Almost hear me answering 'Merry Christmas, Mama.'

  _Almost_.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, therefore I greatly appreciate any and all mistakes and awkward wordings pointed out to me.  
> I aim to improve!  
> Also greatly appreciated are comments and kudos, as well as criticism.  
> Thanx to you all!  
> <3
> 
> see ya, Leo


End file.
